


something for the hunger

by lost_decade



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Formula E RPF
Genre: M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, but only mildly so, several hinted at past relationships, the usual angst, this is basically slutty Charles and introspective Jev
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:51:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23268283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_decade/pseuds/lost_decade
Summary: The disturbing thing is that he remembers Charles as a kid, can still recall the boy hanging on Jules' coattails with that light shining in his eyes, worship and adoration.
Relationships: André Lotterer/Jean-Eric Vergne, Lewis Hamilton/Charles Leclerc, Lewis Hamilton/Charles Leclerc/Jean-Eric Vergne, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	something for the hunger

**Author's Note:**

> Set back in October 2019 after FE testing. I did actually start writing this at the time and its been languishing in my drafts ever since. I think Jev had tagged Lewis in a couple of posts about climate change and uhhh clearly this is what my brain took away from that.
> 
> Title from Something for the Pain by She Drew the Gun

The disturbing thing is that he remembers Charles as a kid, can still recall the boy hanging on Jules' coattails with that light shining in his eyes, worship and adoration. The light has changed now, still just as fierce in its intensity but with the innocence drained away.

_ Same_, Jev thinks, even though it’s not entirely true as he can’t quite recall the virtues of his own youth with enough clarity to mourn those particular losses. "Did you ever--" Charles starts to ask, those eyes on him still, bright with mischief. Jev doesn’t let him finish, pushes two fingers into Charles' mouth instead to shut him up. His other hand slips back into his hair, jerking his head back roughly. It surprises him a little how easily Charles goes with it, his body malleable, easier to shape than his mind.

No, Jev didn't, _ ever.  
_

He doesn't want to think about Jules though, and he isn't sure how to contemplate the unexpected addition of Charles to this scenario. His long eyelashes and pretty eyes, gorgeous as any faux-innocent in a _ Bel Ami _ teaser trailer, can't help but make Jean-Éric's dick stir, yet it's an uncomfortable sort of desire, like he's caught between longing and repulsion when Charles' tongue curls against his fingers in the imitation of what he might do to Jean-Éric's cock, given the chance.

Once upon a time maybe Jean-Éric wouldn't have thought twice. His body craves a deeper physical strength now though, broader shoulders and the mischievous power of _ years _ of experience, learned fingers on his skin and coarse stubble that burns his lips when they kiss.

The strangeness of the circumstances are such that he's not dismissive enough to say it aloud, but Charles kind of doesn't do it for him.

There's a breathless gasp from further up the bed, a few _fuck yeah_'s and then Charles is shoved forward, gagging on Jean-Éric's fingers, saliva running down his chin. The view becoming a more enticing prospect as Charles is removed from it, nestling his face into Jean-Éric's lap, rosy cheeks rubbing over his crotch, his soft moans almost catlike. Jean-Éric strokes his hair and thinks of Cheetah, of her nosing her face into the boxes of Lorene’s things as she packs them.

He knows Carl has spared him the worst of the details, the grimace on his friend's face telling enough that he hadn't wanted to press. Any trace of Lorene's involvement in his life will be obliterated from his flat by the time he gets home and really he thinks he probably owes Carl a drink or ten for sorting out the whole mess for him. It's selfish but he wants his girlfriend, his lovers, his team, all spinning in orbit, there when he needs them and easy enough to dodge when he doesn't. Isn't that what he's doing here, what he had in mind from the start last night tossing and turning restlessly in his hotel room in Valencia, getting some space from them all, not running to André and giving away how much he needs him before the season even starts?

Well, maybe _ this _ isn't exactly what he had in mind_. _

_ Come over anytime, man,_ Lewis had said. So Jean-Éric had taken him up on the offer. To talk about racing, or the planet, or maybe to have someone pretty in F1 to flirt with (a safer prospect than Dan) now they’re both the gods of their respective series rather than the cast-off Jev once felt like. He was even prepared to pretend he didn’t have a fucking Wagyu burger for dinner the night before. Unprepared, however, for Leclerc to be the one to open Lewis' door, shirtless and nonchalant about the fact, a bottle of lube in his hand and one gleaming white tooth biting into the fullness of his lower lip as Jev felt distinctly like he'd walked onto a porn set rather than a world champion's Monaco apartment.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Lewis groans, "you feel so good around my dick," collapsing forward over Charles' back and meeting Jean-Éric's eyes, his face flushed, a concentration in his eyes that Jev couldn't have guessed would stretch beyind racing to _ this, _ but that now seems so incredibly obvious. The motion shoves Charles' further forward so his face is buried against the erection Jean-Éric can't really help having. He's going to get to watch Lewis come, he realises, unconsciously rolling his hips to grind against Charles' face, taking a shuddery breath when Charles starts to lick and suck at his cock through his jeans.

Is it the eagerness, he wonders, that does it for Lewis. He can't imagine Rosberg ever submitting like this, blushes when he thinks how he himself must look when André lays him out and takes him apart. Jev would never allow anyone to witness that though, would never let André share him. 

"You want to?" Lewis pants, "after me?" he adds at Jev's frown of confusion.

He shakes his head. _ I prefer to watch _ is what he intends to say. "I'd rather fuck you instead," is what actually tumbles out of his mouth. Lewis' shock is momentary, a fleeting second of alarm in which his hips still, before Charles' wriggling and trying to push back and fuck himself on Lewis' cock distracts him into picking up his movements again.

It probably isn't allowed but Jean-Éric reaches out and touches Lewis' face, wipes the sweat away from his forehead and lets himself sink into the hypnotism of their rhythm, lets Charles pull his zipper down and take him out, closes his eyes and listens to Lewis calling him a slut, a whore. He knows the words are for Charles but it gets him off pretending they're aimed at him.

If André saw this would he be angry, would he show it? Jean-Éric still doesn't know how to ask for the real debasing he wants from him, knowing André can deliver the degradation but unsure if he'd know that what Jev really needs is the praise to follow it. Like Lewis' moaned _ you're such a good boy. _ Jean-Éric kneels up on the bed at that, inadvertently shoving his dick further into Charles mouth as he leans over for a kiss that Lewis willingly gives him.

It feels like a long time ago somehow, kissing Lewis, even though it's the first time, something nostalgic that makes his heart sting and his dick throb, imagining for a moment it _ is _ back then, living out a fantasy him and Dan had jerked each other off over more than a couple of times. 

It feels good, taking something he _ wants _rather than needs. 

  
  



End file.
